What You Do To Me
by PureVampirePriestess
Summary: Sherlock hasn't slept in days and John is tired of him soiling his health. What will John do to fatigue the other man? Surely it has nothing to to with a bed right? No, but there are pillows involved. BBC Just some fluff and chuckles here and there. Innocent flirting at most.


**A/N: **This is just a short story of Sherlock fluff. I actually did this for a contest. The contest was to wrap in a pillow fight. This is what I did. I hope you all like this. Enjoy~!

What You Do To Me

Sherlock entered the quiet lodge of 221b Baker Street. Only the happy jingle of Watson's bulldog's collar. It waltzed up to him, circled him once and flopped down onto the door mat, instantly falling asleep. He turned away from the beast, setting his coat and hat on their designated hooks before making his way down up the stairs to his study. There he promptly dumped his suit case full of clothing from his last travel out of the city. The sound of the door opening again caught his attention briefly before he threw himself onto his couch and sighed deeply. John's footsteps were heard coming from the stairs as he himself made his way up to their living quarters.

"That case was fairly easy." He heard John say as Sherlock continued to stare out the window in front of him.

"It wasn't worth going to Ashington for. That case was utterly daft." Sherlock said and John sighed at his continuous sourness. It had been like this since the ride home. He had been avoiding John's gaze and would only retort with sour comments.

"Was there just the case or is there something else bothering you?" John asked as he went to the kitchen to get some tea. Sherlock's brows creased in confusion.

"Why do you ask?" He asked in turn, turning around on the couch to look at where john had fled.

"You're not usually this much of a git." He called and Sherlock pursed his lips before turning around on the couch steepling his fingers against his lips and going silent. A while later John came out with a cup of tea and a cup of coffee. He set the coffee in front of Sherlock before sitting at the table on which now sat his laptop. He popped the top open and proceeded to type up the latest case on his blog.

"Sherlock I hate to break you out of you mind castle but you haven't slept in five days." He said after three hours of silence. The coffee he had brought the consulting detective had gone cold by now and was still sitting in the same place as it had been before. When Sherlock didn't answer he paused in his typing to turn from the computer. When he turned his heart nearly jumped out of his eyes. Sherlock was standing not even a foot from him, bent over and looking him straight in the eye. To say John flinched would have been an understatement. "Sherlock! Bloody hell, you nearly gave me a heart attack." He said sitting back away from Sherlock's face. He hadn't even heard him get up from the couch or pad over in his now bare feet.

"It's highly unlikely for a man of your age to have a heart attack unless you have a reoccurring heart condition that you have never told me about. Seeing as you have not had any episodes in the past, nor any physical signs of chest pain I do not see the possibility that a man as young as yourself would need to worry about having a heart attack." Sherlock said blandly. Even when John knew Sherlock wasn't implying anything, John couldn't help but feel flattered at the unintentional compliment he had just received.

"It's a figure of speech Sherlock." He explained and Sherlock blinked before clearing his throat and down-casting his eyes, but still unmoving from his half bent position.

"Right." He said as John studied his face. Sherlock's face was usually unreadable or at least un-amused or in deep thought, but now John could tell what he was thinking. Sherlock had a frown on his face but his eyes were a mixture of emotions that John had never seen before. Or Sherlock had never let him see before.

"Go to bed." John interrupted Sherlock's thoughts as he got up from his chair. Sherlock seemed to notice the movement as he looked up at John before straightening.

"I'm fine, I don't need sleep." He said and John rolled his eyes, knowing this was going to end up turning into a big debate before he was finished.

"Sherlock you haven't slept in five days, you've been running around through those five days all on cases, and have been living off of nicotine patches and coffee for the entirety of those days." John pointed out.

"I'm aware of my actions over the past five days." Sherlock countered and John let out a flustered sigh, trying to keep his growing anger under control.

"That's not the point Sherlock. My point is that you're not a machine, you're a human being and like it or not your body needs the essential things most humans do to keep going." John said switching to doctor mode in the matter of a few words. Sherlock noticed this and turned from him, going to pick up his violin from its place on the coffee table. John's eyes narrowed as he himself made his way over to the couch. "Don't ignore me Sherlock, you need sleep." He said and Sherlock merely reached for his violin. Before John realized what he was doing, he had picked up the pillow from his own chair and chucked it at Sherlock's head. The pillow hit its target, bouncing off of Sherlock's curls and landing on the floor where Sherlock stared at it for a moment before looking up at John.

"Really John, resorting to throwing things now are we?" Sherlock said in his condescending tone. John merely stayed glaring at him before Sherlock went back to reaching for the violin.

Another pillow hit him square in the face this one landing on the coffee table where Sherlock looked at it for a good minute before he picked the pillow up and straightened.

"You really are a child sometimes aren't you?" Sherlock said and John just gave him an irritated stare before answering him.

"Go to bed Sherlock." He said and Sherlock threw the pillow back at him, hitting John in the chest where it fell, being caught midair by John.

"No." Sherlock said as he picked up the other pillow. John walked over to Sherlock and beat him in the head with the pillow before waiting for a now shocked looking Sherlock to answer to his silent demand.

Sherlock, in turn glared at him and smacked him in the face with the pillow held in his own hand, Before either of them knew it they were all over the living room beating each other with the feathery head rests. John knew this was probably the most childish thing he had done, but he was sure Sherlock wearing no pants to go see his brother was about twice as childish as this. John ended up wrestling Sherlock to the floor and repeatedly thrusting the pillow down onto Sherlock's face, the pillow striking its target with a loud thumping sound. Before John could land anymore blows Sherlock's flailing body ceased and, for lack of better wording, exploded into a fit of guffaws and giggles. John froze, wondering if he had broken his friend; because as much as he would love not to believe it, Sherlock never broke out laughing in near hysterics. John put the pillow down looking at Sherlock who had his hands up to shield his face while he laughed.

It took a few minutes for Sherlock to calm down, his laughs turning to chuckles with a smirk glued to his face. John had finally had enough of his strange behavior and took one of Sherlock's wrists in his grip and pulled a hand from his face. Sherlock dropped his hands then, looking at John with humor in his eyes and something else John couldn't quite name.

"Fine, I'll go to bed." Sherlock said in defeat before John looked at him in complete shock and confusion.

"Really?" He said in a disbelieving tone. Sherlock nodded as he shifted underneath John's body. Taking the hint, John got up off of the floor, watching Sherlock as he himself stood, dusting off his clothing.

"Having my roommate wrestle me to the ground, sit atop of me and mercilessly beat me with my own headrest reminded me that even high functioning sociopaths need sleep." He explained and John gave him a deadpan look.

"So you're saying you're completely worn out after that." John confirmed and Sherlock ignored him to retreat to his room.

John turned towards the hallway throwing the pillow he was still holding in aggravation at Sherlock's head. All he was left with was the pillow hitting the door, Sherlock's ghost of a chuckle and the thought of what the hell had just happened.

**A/N: **I hope you liked that short story. I won't be continuing this. I like the ending as it is because this is how I see their relationship. Just simple and innocent flirting. At least for this story I do. Rabbit or Wolf, my other story on here, is a completely different story. If you want Johnlock then feel free to take a gander that that story. Anyway leave a review for me and tell me how you liked this.


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